Pulse-Only for You:.
by Kasumi Mizuhana
Summary: When Jesse (Musashi) suspects James (Kojiro) of being with another woman, what measures will she take to have his heart beat for her...and only for her?


"I think I'll go with a dozen of the long-stem red roses."  
"Excellent choice, sir. Please wait here while I fix that up for you."  
"Arigatou."  
Kojiro smiled happily to himself as he drummed his fingers rhythmically along   
the florist's counter. These will be perfect, he thought glancing over the   
counter at the florist wrapping up an arrangement of roses.   
"Here you are, sir," the florist said a moment later, presenting Kojiro with   
the bouquet. "And you can fill this card out, too."  
Kojiro accepted the card from the young woman.  
Dear Musa-chan,  
Happy 18th Birthday! May you have many more to come!  
Love always,  
Koji-kun  
When he had finished the message, he slid it carefully into a fold in the   
bouquet and plunked down a wad of cash.   
The florist counted it out carefully and gave Kojiro his change.   
"Arigatou! Please come again!" she called pleasantly as Kojiro closed the   
door behind him.  
He stepped into the fresh air buoyantly and a cool breeze rushed into his   
lungs. It was a beautiful day outside in Tamamushi City, and the tiny   
shopping plaza was wide open; allowing the sun to pour down freely.   
At a table outside the Poké Café, Kasumi, Satoshi, his Pikachu and Takeshi   
sat eating small sandwiches and sipping fresh lemonade. Satoshi's head jerked   
up as he noticed Kojiro striding past.  
"Hey, that's a nice bouquet of roses ya got there, Kojiro!" he shouted   
obnoxiously. "I never thought Rocketto Dan'd stoop so low as to rip off a   
florist!"  
Kojiro turned blankly to the small table and stared. Kasumi and Takeshi both   
sank in their seats. "For your information, jari-boii," Kojiro annunciated   
forcefully, "I paid for these flowers in full. They're for Musa-chan."  
"Musashi?" Satoshi asked absently.  
"Hai. And even your rude questioning can't spoil my good mood today, so why   
don't you and that stuffed rat just continue eating?"  
The four watched wordlessly as Kojiro passed by them briskly. Kasumi then   
looked at Satoshi and chided: "That was awfully rude, Sato-chan."   
Satoshi pulled his cap over his eyes and muttered, "Oh, be quiet."  
Takeshi merely shook his head and drank some lemonade. 

As Kojiro headed to the local bakery, he heard off in the distance the sound   
of a woman screaming. Normally he would have kept walking. After all, it   
certainly isn't any of his business. Still…  
For some reason Kojiro stopped dead in his tracks. As the scream sounded   
again, Kojiro made uncertain movements towards its source.  
In a back alley, a young brown-haired woman stood petrified with her back to   
the wall. In the foreground was a gangly looking man with shabby clothing. He   
brandished a switch-bladed knife threateningly saying: "Just hand over yer   
wallet, lady. That's all I want…"  
The woman couldn't answer, her eyes quivered with fear.  
Against his better judgement, Kojiro shouted: "Hey! You! Let her go!"  
Both the woman and her assailant stared with disbelief at Kojiro, who was   
trying hard to keep his knees from shaking.  
"Mind yer own business, blue-hair," the man slurred gruffly. "Ya might get   
yerself hurt."  
Kojiro wrinkled his nose with disgust. "You need a lesson in manners, old   
man. And a bath."  
"Why you!" the man lunged at Kojiro, his knife barely missing his throat.   
"Uhn! Utsubot, go!" Kojiro recovered backwards and hurled a monster ball   
straight up into the air. The Utsubot popped out of its ball and landed on   
top of the man--mouth first.   
"Ge' me outta hemf!" he bellowed angrily from inside the pokémon's massive   
jowls. Kojiro quickly swiped the switchblade from his groping hands.  
"I'll teach you to--" Kojiro stopped in mid sentence at the sound of Officer   
Jenny's motorcycle screeching to a halt behind him.   
"Hold it right there, young man!"  
Kojiro loosened his grip and the knife dropped with a clank to the ground.   
Officer Jenny swung off her bike and walked up to the scene, swinging a pair   
of handcuffs on her finger.  
"Alright, you," she said disdainfully to Kojiro. "What are you doing with   
that knife?"  
Kojiro just stared with wide eyes, and a small groan warbled up from his   
throat.  
"No, no officer!" the brunette finally spoke up. "That man saved my life!"  
Jenny eyed Kojiro with suspicion. "I know you. You're from Rocketto Dan."  
"M-me?" Kojiro stammered. His eyes suddenly drifted to the mess of roses   
strewn at his feet.   
"Are you paying any attention?" the brunette cried desperately. "That man,   
the man in the Utsubot, he tried to rob me!"  
"Is that so?" Jenny asked. Kojiro bent over slowly and began to mechanically   
gather up the roses. Seeing that he wasn't going to answer, the brunette   
affirmed, "Yes, it's true!"  
"Well, in any case, I'm going to need you to come down to the precinct and   
file a report."  
"Hai, of course," Kojiro said as he stood up. "Just…quickly. I need to get   
back." 

After withstanding an hour or so of grueling and seemingly needless   
questions, Kojiro staggered tiredly out of Jenny's office and into the   
waiting room.   
The brunette was sitting there, sipping some coffee. When she saw Kojiro she   
ran over to him and showered him with kisses.  
"I never got to thank you…!" she said breathlessly to a simpering Kojiro. "I   
owe you one!"  
"Uhm, don't mention it," Kojiro said uncomfortably. He wasn't used to being   
in this sort of position.  
Excusing himself, he pushed softly past the woman and steadily made his way   
to the exit. Finally he could go home to Musashi.

----

"Where is he, Nyase?" Musashi groaned pacing back and forth on the hard   
wooden floor. "You don't think he forgot about me, do you?" She stopped for a   
moment and glanced at the sleepy Pokémon, who lifted its large round head   
slowly.  
"Probably not," he answered apathetically. "But den you know Kojiro. He ain't   
da brightest human inna woild."   
Musashi scowled but saw no point in saying anything. Nyase was already asleep   
again.  
Suddenly, she heard the vague sound of heavy footsteps outside. Her heart was   
in her throat as the doorknob slowly clacked to the right…  
Kojiro stood in the doorway with a bouquet of mangled roses clutched to his   
chest. A smile of both relief and contentedness crept across his face at   
finally seeing Musashi.   
Musashi didn't smile back. She was staring in horror at the smudged lip marks   
on Kojiro's face. Kojiro shook his head and gave a weak laugh. "Oh,   
Musa-chan, you wouldn't believe the day I've had…"  
Hot tears spilled over Musashi's eyes and her lips quivered as they formed   
the words: "How could you?"  
Kojiro stood dumbfounded as his partner brushed past him roughly and ran into   
the black of night. He looked to Nyase for an answer, but the sleeping   
Pokémon offered no comfort. His arms went limp and one by one the roses   
drifted to the floor.  
"What just happened?" 

Musashi ran through the streets blindly with the cold air stinging her face.   
It all seemed to be happening in slow motion; the pounding of her boots on   
the pavement were hours apart…  
Why was this happening to her? Why did Kojiro betray her? How could he?  
After running for several blocks, Musashi had to stop. Nearly collapsing, she   
leaned her wait on a nearby street-lamp and tried to catch her breath.   
"What are you running from, girl?"  
Musashi stumbled from the fright of hearing the strange voice.   
"Who's there?" she cried desperately. Presently, a tall figure emerged from   
the shadows. The darkness fell away to reveal the figure of a young man;   
frightfully pale in contrast. His hair was a stark white and his eyes were   
thin and elfin, and a cold grey in color.  
"Who are you?" Musashi breathed. The man bowed his head.   
"I am Keiya Nagasu," he replied in a voice as hollow as an echo. "What are   
you running from?"  
Musashi wiped away her tears and tried to compose herself. "I-I'm fine, I   
just--"  
Keiya suddenly pressed his fingers against her lips. "Hush."  
Musashi's heart beat hard and fast as this stranger stared at her intensely.   
He looked around, and removed his hand. "Follow me."  
In an instant, Keiya was welcomed back into the shadows and Musashi was   
alone. She stood there wordlessly. Her head was screaming a million fractured   
thoughts; she didn't know what to do. So she followed.  
She was led to an abandoned parlor…a very claustrophobic room with only a few   
candles to provide light. Keiya was already seated at a small round table. He   
beckoned for her to join him. Musashi sat down.  
"Now," he said leaning forward. "What are your troubles?"  
Musashi didn't know where to start, or why she should even bother, but she   
was frightened of this Nagasu in spite of herself. So she began to explain.  
"It's my friend Kojiro. Today was my birthday, and I guess he forgot…"   
Musashi paused a moment.  
"Go on."  
"Well, he was out for most of the day. I was waiting for him the whole time   
at home. When he finally came back he… he had lipstick all over his face."   
Musashi wrinkled her nose. "Some other woman's lipstick."  
"I see. And it bothers you that some woman other than yourself was with   
Kojiro, hai?"  
Musashi lurched over in her seat and grabbed her throbbing head. "Why is he   
asking this, why the hell is he asking me this? How can he sit here and ask   
me all these goddamned questions with that stupid look of his?"  
Keiya merely sat and waited.  
Musashi looked into his eyes warily. "Why am I so afraid of him? I hate being   
afraid…fear makes you weak. I hate being weak…" her mind rambled on   
nonsensically.   
After an eternity, Keiya asked, "Well?"  
"Yes!" Musashi blurted. "Of course it bothers me! Kojiro is my best friend!   
More than my best friend, and I…" Musashi's voice broke up.  
"Do you love him?" Keiya asked bluntly.  
Whatever tears Musashi had left blurred her vision now as the welled up in   
her eyes.   
"Hai." she whispered.  
Keiya nodded and leaned back in his seat. "I suspected as much." Musashi   
glared at him expectantly. "Is that all? Is that all? You put me through all   
of that for nothing?" she wanted to scream.  
"…I can help you," Keiya resolved. "You will be all Kojiro thinks about. All   
he dreams about, all he cares about. The only one he'll ever love…"  
Musashi's eyes danced in the candlelight. "How?"  
"Through the influence of the ancient runes…" Keiya said in an odd voice. His   
mind seemed to drift for a moment, until he suddenly went into his pocket. He   
rummaged through and grabbed a small needle-like dirk, only about the length   
of his index finger, maybe longer.  
"What are you going to do with that?" Musashi's voice quivered.  
"Just give me your hand."  
Musashi shakily slid her fingers out of her leather glove and placed her hand   
palm-up in front of Keiya. She winced as she felt the dirk penetrate her   
skin, going deep into her flesh.   
"What are you doing to me?" she asked between almost inaudible sobs.  
"I'm carving a rune into your palm," Keiya said not bothering to look up from   
his work. Musashi bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut until she could feel   
the sharp needle being withdrawn. "There. It is done."  
She smoothed over the grooves with her finger gingerly.  
"This will make Kojiro love me?" she asked incredulously.   
"You will see." Keiya replied. "Now go home and sleep."  
Musashi got up from her chair and left the parlor without a word. 

Kojiro awoke with a jolt at the sound of the door being opened. He looked   
around groggily; he had fallen asleep while waiting for Musashi. He was   
overjoyed to see her in the doorway.  
"Musa-chan!" he bolted off the couch and ran over to her. "Where were you? I   
went out looking for you! I'm so sorry I upset you! Are you still angry   
Musa-chan?" Kojiro babbled on.  
He stopped suddenly. Musashi looked very pale and withdrawn.   
"Musa-chan? Are you alright?"  
"Hai," she said quietly. "Just a little tired. Good night, Kojiro…"  
She brushed past him slowly and kept a mechanical pace towards her bedroom.   
Kojiro stood there, bewildered as the door shut quietly behind her.  
"…Musashi…?"

---

"Psst! Nya-san!" Kojiro's head popped out from behind the wall in the   
kitchen. Nyase yawned and looked at Kojiro agitatedly. "Whadda ya want?"  
"Do we have any cinnamon?"  
Nyase sat up on the couch where he was sleeping. "What in da woild d'ya want   
wit' cinnamon?"  
"I'm making French Toast for Musa-chan," Kojiro replied, fully emerging in   
front of Nyase. "I figure that breakfast in bed is the least I can do for her   
after yesterday."  
Yawning again and taking a quick stretch, Nyase hopped off the couch and   
padded over to the kitchen. "Yeah, I t'ink we got some. Lemme check."  
Kojiro greased a large skillet and set to work beating some eggs as Nyase   
rummaged through the pantry. "Found it," he announced, leaping off the   
counter top. He presented Kojiro with two fresh sticks of cinnamon.   
"Hey, who bought fresh cinnamon anyhow?"  
"Musa-chan did; for her coffee." Kojiro began to grate the cinnamon over   
three golden brown pieces of French toast.  
"Hey, uh, dis may sound like a stupid comment," Nyase said as he watched   
Kojiro work, "But you're pretty good at makin' French toast, arentcha?"   
"My father used to make me French toast every Sunday when I was little. It's   
one of the only fond memories I have from that place…"  
"…It looks like it's done."  
Kojiro stepped back and flipped the toast into a plate, pouring a generous   
helping of syrup on top and garnishing it with powdered sugar.   
"Make sure I don't bump into anything, okay, Nya-san?" Kojiro said taking up   
a tray with Musashi's breakfast. A vase with a single rose in it rattled as   
Kojiro made his way to Musashi's bedroom. He knocked on the door softly. No   
answer came, so he let himself in.  
"Mu-u-usa-cha-a-an…"he crooned softly, setting the tray down on a side table.  
Musashi lay very still. She must have fallen asleep right away, Kojiro   
thought. She was still in uniform.   
"Musa-chan, wake up," Kojiro said gently shaking her by the shoulder. She   
stirred slightly and let out a dull moan. "Musa-chan," Kojiro said growing   
worried. "What's wrong?" He extended his arm and felt her forehead. It was   
burning up.  
"Oh, no!" Kojiro ran from the room and soaked a washcloth with cold water.   
Brushing Nyase aside, he placed the cloth on her head, smoothing aside a few   
stray hairs.   
"Nyase, get a phone book. She needs a doctor!"  
Nyase hurriedly grabbed the phone directory from the coffee table and   
returned to Kojiro with it. "Anything Nyase…?" Kojiro asked as the Pokémon   
flipped through the listings. "Here's one! Doctor Fujimaruu. Want da number?"   
"Hai, quickly!" Kojiro dialed while Nyase read the number aloud. After   
explaining his problem to the receptionist, he hung up the phone.  
"He'll be here soon, the doctor will be here soon, Musashi," Kojiro said   
hugging her fiercely. "Everything will be okay, I promise you."  
  
  
"I can just barely make out a heartbeat," Doctor Fujimaruu said moving his   
stethoscope around on Musashi's sternum. He removed the apparatus from around   
his neck and produced, from his bag, a thermometer. Gently coaxing Musashi's   
mouth open, he slid the thermometer under her tongue.   
Kojiro watched sullenly from Musashi's bedside. "103 degrees." the doctor   
reported. "This is no good."  
"What's wrong with her?" Kojiro asked quietly.   
"I can't be sure at this point. All the symptoms are vague. It could be   
viral; I'll have to take some blood."  
Dr. Fujimaruu went through his bag for a syringe. "Could you just remove that   
glove for me?" he asked Kojiro as he prepared a clean needle. Kojiro did as   
he was asked. As the doctor drew plasma from Musashi's arm, Kojiro felt her   
cold fingers wrap around his wrist. Startled, he turned to his friend.   
"Musashi?"  
"N-Nagasu…" she moaned.   
"Hai, he's just taking some blood, Musa-chan," Kojiro said, mistaking   
Musashi's offering of the name as a sign for coherency. Nagasu, in Japanese,   
means to shed blood.   
"N-no," Musashi said closing her eyes. "Keiya…Nagasu…" Her hand suddenly   
fell limp. Kojiro clutched it desperately. "No, Musashi, wait…! Who is Keiya   
Nagasu? Did he hurt you?"  
He suddenly felt how rough her palm was. Looking closely, he found the rune,   
embedded deep into her skin.   
"What is this? What the hell is this?" Kojiro demanded. Doctor Fujimaruu   
examined it. His face grew pale. "I've seen this before…"  
"Where?" Kojiro asked. "What's wrong with her? Answer me!"  
The doctor just shook his head as he gathered his things and put on his coat.   
"I've had a case like this before…" he said.   
Turning to Kojiro, his face looked grim. "I have to go to my office and check   
some medical records."  
"Musashi's?"  
The doctor shook his head. "Listen, I will try to get back to you as soon as   
I can. In the meanwhile, try and get some fluids in her, and keep that cold   
compress on her head. It will help keep the fever down."  
"Arigatou doctor, Kojiro said showing him the way out. "Please call back   
soon."  
"I'll try, sir. I will try."  


---

Doctor Fujimaruu walked wearily into his office. The red light on his   
answering   
machine was blinking; Messages. He'd get to them later. Letting out a tired   
sigh, he lowered himself into his chair.   
"Why is he doing this?" he asked aloud, though no one was there to hear him.   
He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and looked around.   
Reluctantly, he began sorting through old medical files until he found the   
one he wanted.   
Five years ago. A young woman was found dead in her apartment. The autopsy   
showed nothing. The only clue was a rune carved into the palm of her right   
hand…  
The doctor's eyes wandered toward a small picture frame on his desk. The   
frame held an aged photo of two young boys; one with wisps of pale hair   
hanging down in his face, the other with darker hair. They both had the same   
piercing eyes.   
  
"Where are ya goin'?" Nyase asked as Kojiro pulled on a pair of Timberlands.   
"Out," he replied flatly.  
"But dontcha' wanna stay here in case anything happe-"  
"Listen for the phone," Kojiro told Nyase as he stepped out into the rain.   
"I'll be back in a little while."  
Nyase watched silently as Kojiro walked off into the downpour. The Pokémon   
shook his head sadly.  
Kojiro walked the streets of Yamamuchi City, heedless of the rain and with no   
particular destination in mind. His thoughts drifted to Musashi. It seemed   
that she was all he could think about. He knew that Nyase was confused about   
his supposed apathy towards the situation, but he was more in shock than   
anything else. Musashi was so much stronger than he was.  
He felt a deep hatred for this person that had hurt his dear Musashi. He   
silently vowed to himself that he would get his revenge.   
Kojiro was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the young man   
coming towards him, equally oblivious. The two bumped into each other and   
stumbled backwards.   
  
"Hello?" The phone had rang three times before Nyase answered it.  
"Yes, this is Doctor Fujimaruu. I have some information…"  
  
"Uh, sorry about that," Kojiro muttered absently. The young man glared at him   
icily, and Kojiro felt a shiver go down his spine. "Let me help you up,"   
Kojiro offered. He helped the stranger to his feet. He froze when, letting go   
of the man's hand, he saw the same rune that was carved into Musashi's palm.  
He looked at the stranger with wavering eyes. "You're…"  
  
"Keiya Nagasu," Doctor Fujimaruu explained. "I found some information on him.   
He supposedly belongs to a spiritualist sect, a cult you might call it."  
"Dat's da guy Musashi mentioned, right?"  
"Hai."  
"Awright, so whatta bout dat rune on her hand?"  
  
  
"What did you do to Musashi?" Kojiro screamed pinning Keiya a nearby brick   
wall.   
"Uhn! I don't know who you're talking about… who are you?"  
"Kojiro, of the Rocket Dan."  
"Ah, so you're the one," Keiya said slowly. "Now I know who you're talking   
about."  
"What do you mean I'm `the one'?" Kojiro asked, frowning. "What did you do to   
Musashi?"  
  
"Apparently this cult, the Magi of the Rune, use the particular symbol as a   
sort of branding, indicating that the victim is now the property of the Magi."  
"Den how does dat explain Musashi's condition?" Nyase asked.  
"The Magi's main goal is to increase their spiritualist powers by sort of   
sucking the spiritual energies from their victims. They're like vampires, in   
a sense. Now, traditionally, runes are used as sort of a gateway to summon   
spirits or to assist in another sort of ritual. But in the case of Nagasu-San   
and his ilk, they use it to drain the people branded with their rune. Since   
it's not truly a medical ailment, muddled symptoms manifest. That's probably   
why Musashi has the fever."  
"It doesn't seem like Musashi ta let herself get mutilated like dat," Nyase   
said.   
"These people are very deceitful and sneaky. They lure their victims under   
the guise of a friend; someone who just wants to help."  
  
  
"Son of a Bitch!" Kojiro shouted angrily.  
"I was only giving her what she said she wanted," Keiya said craning his neck   
so as to avoid Kojiro's clenched fists. "Hmm…judging from your reaction to   
the situation, I'd say it worked."  
"You…you," Kojiro sputtered in his anger.  
"You have no right to blame me. I didn't break the girl's heart," Keiya said   
coldly. "The situation was in your hands, and you refused to take control of   
it, and so it slipped through your fingers."  
Keiya felt the shock and sting of Kojiro's fist driving across his jaw. Blood   
trickled down his lip and mingled with the puddles of rain.   
"First blood is yours, Kojiro," Keiya said reaching into his pocket. "Too bad   
that wasn't much of a punch."  
The cold revolver was pushing forcefully against Kojiro's forehead.  
"Now let me go."  
  
  
"What can we do?" Nyase asked glancing over his shoulder at Musashi.   
"I don't know exactly. I can only theorize that if the man who is preying on   
Musashi's spirit is killed, that maybe her spirit could be restored."  
  
Kojiro sank his teeth into Keiya's extended arm. Screaming in pain, Keiya   
dropped the revolver to the floor. Kojiro quickly snatched it up. Keiya froze   
as he heard the hammer click back.  
"No more! Musashi will suffer no more!" Kojiro cried.   
"I wouldn't be so rash, if I were you," Keiya said. "You don't know what kind   
of link I have with the girl. If I die, she may very well die with me."  
  
  
"Y'know," Nyase said slowly. "It confuses me dat a doctor would know so much   
about something dat you said wasn't a medical ailment."  
The doctor remained silent.  
  
"Even…even if Musashi does die…It's better than having her suffer," Kojiro   
said sadly.   
"Come on, don't be foolish. Just put the gun down…" Keiya started coming   
towards Kojiro menacingly.  
"Stay back!"  
  
  
"Well, doctor?" Nyase said, awaiting an answer. Doctor Fujimaruu closed his   
eyes and took a deep breath.   
"Because," he began. "Keiya is my…"  
A deafening shot cut through the stagnant air. Keiya clutched his chest and   
fell to the ground. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small item,   
almost like an index card. He looked at it tearfully, and with his last   
breath uttered: "Brother, please forgive me…"  
Kojiro slumped to the pavement. The rainwater was stained a bright red. The   
revolver disturbed his reflection in the water as it slipped from his fingers   
and fell to his side. He suddenly looked towards the item that Keiya had   
withdrawn. Steadying himself slowly as he got up, he staggered over to the   
dead body. Stooping over, he gently took the item in his hands. It was a   
photograph of two young boys, the older of which couldn't have been more than   
ten. There was a platinum blonde, and a brown-haired boy, and they both had   
the same piercing eyes…  



End file.
